Solitary
by aunomdelarose
Summary: Come to think of it, being in prison isn't bad when you've got nothing and no one of importance- a life outside waiting for you. Dramione one-shot.


Hey guys! This is a one-shot I've been meaning to finish for quite some time. It's a little different from what I usually write, but hey, there's nothing bad about trying new stuff every now and then! It's a little "sorry" gift for the hiatus of my other fics. I don't know man, enjoy?

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to JK Rowling, her majesty.**

* * *

Azkaban. Enveloped with darkness. Nothing but the moon light as a mere source of light, a source of hope, a source of strength.

The coldness of the night gave him shivers that rooted to his very core, to the marrows of his bones. Every night was like this, but that he could endure. The jolts that he got were no match to the feeling of her hands on his face, his hands, his arms, his chest. Nothing and no one could beat it. The chills only helped him compensate for the lack of her presence. The touch that he had missed and longed for.

"How long have I been here?" Draco asked.

"Three hundred and seventy-two days." The cellar guard replied.

"I keep asking that as if I'm waiting to get out."

"Who knows? You got a powerful name. Loads of money."

Draco chuckled. "I wouldn't hold on to false hope." He hugged his knees as he sat on the corner.

~.~

"What are you doing here?"

Hermione looked up; her nose slightly brushed the book she read upwards. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"I mean, what are you doing on _my_ table?"

"I don't see your name on it."

Draco pointed at the corner of the wooden table, it was carved with the initials 'DM' with a writing so well it looked like it was intended to be there.

"You shouldn't vandalize on school property, Madam Pince will be furious."

"Three things, Granger. One, you're a complete suck-up. Two, let the old woman be mad. It's just a carving, nothing threatening to the books and the learning community. And three, do I look like I give a shit? Now get out of my seat or I'll drag you."

"I was here first." Her eyes turned to slits.

"Didn't you hear me the first time? This. Is. My. Table." He slapped his palm on her book.

"I thought this wasn't supposed to threaten the learning community? You're threatening mine. Now leave."

"I will not surrender my place to you."

"And I will not surrender to your poor threats and bullying tactics."

"Fine." He took a chair from another table and sat close to her. Arms touching. Too close.

"I hope you flunk whatever subject that is you're studying." He said.

"Don't hold on to your false hopes." She resumed reading, her nose almost giving a chaste kiss to her book again.

~.~

Azkaban. The big clock chimes, its sound permeated through every guard and every prisoner's ears from one hole to another. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve.

"Here's your lunch, git." The guard almost toppled the food and made it even more wasteful as it is.

"I'm not eating that rubbish."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh please, you've been eating that same old grub for a year."

"Well this time, I won't. Seriously, who wants to eat this? House elves eat better than this pile of crap."

"Having your little girl's angry day aren't you, Malfoy?"

"No." He glared at the guard. He smirked back. As much as a dimwit he was, he was only Draco's acquaintance. Not a friend. "Merlin, I hate that clock."

"And your point being?"

Draco shrugged.

"Huh, I think you've lost it Malfoy."

~.~

"What are you doing here?" She asked.

Draco looked back swiftly. His heart almost skipped a beat, almost couldn't move. He was caught. He knew he was doomed to fail from the start. A simple task of fixing a stupid cabinet in discretion and he couldn't even do it.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" He broke into a cold sweat. He was screwed. He slowly tried to close the door of the cabinet while his hands hid at his back.

"I don't know if you haven't noticed this, but I'm not stupid Malfoy. That's a vanishing cabinet. The things you put there goes to its copy. And you're trying to fix it."

"Ten points for Gryffindor." He said sarcastically.

"Why?" Hermione said.

His grey, lifeless eyes looked into hers. For the first time he finally saw what they looked like. They were hazel, like the feel of autumn, his favorite season, something that he wouldn't admit to anyone else. Those days were peaceful, quiet and laid-back. Her expression however, did not depict the feeling of autumn. She was perplexed, and then her eyeballs almost went out of her sockets. A sudden dawn, a realization.

"You're-" She said, almost breathless. "You're a death eater, aren't you?"

Another ten points for Gryffindor.

"That day at Diagon Alley. It was some secret meeting isn't it? Harry was right, he was right about you. And to think that I defended you!"

It was his own turn to be shocked. "I'm sorry, what? You defended me, to Potter?"

"It doesn't matter now! I was wrong to do it. Because he was right, and I have to tell him-" She turned around to take her leave.

"Granger! _Granger!_"

He ran after her. Like some hopeless romantic left by his lover, she ended their relationship and he didn't want to. How silly. She was wary, confused, but she didn't look back at him.

"Where in Merlin's name are you going, Granger?"

"To find Harry! I'm going to tell him the truth about you!"

"Chatterbox, aren't you? Honestly Granger I thought you were better than that! Stop moving!"

"_No!_ He has to know about this!" She walked faster this time. Draco caught up with her, and pushed her hard, but not intentionally hard, into the inner walls of the corridors, hiding them from any eavesdroppers.

"Let me go!" Hermione fidgeted to get herself free.

"No! If I let you go, you will tell on me! I can't let you do that!" Her attempts were futile. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pinned her against the wall. She was helpless, Draco was bloody strong.

"You're on the dark side, Malfoy! This means you're against us, it would be nice for us to know who we are up against! You were planning to make a passage through Hogwarts for your fellow death eaters! How could I not tell on you?"

"Because I had no choice on this!" He punched the wall with his right hand, almost hitting her face, mere inches across the right side. She was scared, so scared and vulnerable in his hands. His back hunched, and he started panting heavily. He shook all over, and Hermione could tell that he was almost crying. Somehow she could tell that he was scared and vulnerable too. "I need to do this. He's threatened to kill me, and my family. I'm doing this for my family. I want them safe."

The struggle to sputter the words out of his mouth was like he was attempting to spit venom out of his system. There he was, revealing his most kept secret, his not-so-honourable task that was given to him, the risks, the results if it were to be accomplished or not. In all honesty, and this time he kept it to himself, even if he completed it or not, he would never be content or happy. He was in the middle of crossroads. And where does that lead? Nowhere.

Hermione was weak. She was weak to fall for his little show of fear, or that she has too much pity in her heart. The Draco Malfoy she knew was proud, too much in fact. And what was there right before her, hysterically weeping and almost leaning to her shoulder, was nothing but a young boy who wanted to do right so that he and his family could be safe. And she damn knew how that felt.

"I've always liked looking at clocks." She said softly.

He looked up to her face, she looked somewhere distant, somewhere only she knew, somewhere he'd like to be too, wherever that may be. It seemed to be better there; then again, anywhere is better than here. "Have you noticed that they only repeat the numbers for both morning and night? It's silly, if you ask me. As if they're saying anyone deserves a second chance if they want one."

He begged for an explanation, with his eyebrows furrowed, the little crumple of agitation on the side of his eyes, and his mouth hung open where he struggled to find his air to breathe.

"We can help you, Malfoy. Harry can help you. You don't have to do this. There must be another way. There is another way-"

"I told you, I don't have a choice!-"

"Let us help you. Let Harry help you." She paused. "At least let me help you."

~.~

Prison night. An elbow nudged Draco by the side. An old man whose beard was white but filled with dirt and all his teeth almost gone was beside him casually, like a friend. He didn't need one. "Ye eating that?"

He looked at the piece of crap before him. Sure he was starved, famished, but eating seemed too passé now. All he wanted to do was sleep. Sleep for days, months, years. Sleep and dream. Dream of her. Her creamy soft flesh, deep hazel eyes, and cherry-coloured plump lips. Those lips he could drown in for days, months, years. Only in his dreams can he be full and alive.

"I'm not hungry. Go ahead." He pushed his plate to the old man.

"Ye know, yer too young to be in here. Ye got your whole life ahead of ye."

"Not really."

"Got a lass out there?"

Draco did not answer. Not a nod or a shake of his head, not a sigh or an intake of breath.

"I'll take that as a yes. Lucky ye, I bet she can't wait for ye to get out, huh?"

He liked to believe she did. But somehow, that was moot.

~.~

"What if we can't find a way out of this?"

"Of course there's a way, keep positive."

"You told me then not to get my hopes up."

"It's nice to hold on to it sometimes, it keeps you going."

The halls were empty, the Great Hall deserted, and all were on their chambers except for them. Hermione continued to browse the books of the Restricted Section. She once said it was exhilarating to break the school rules, probably because there was a purpose, for a greater good. And this time, she felt the same. Even if it was for Draco.

"What are we looking for exactly?" He asked.

"A counter-curse for the Protean. You see, that's how You-Know-Who-"

"Marked us, I know."

"Right, so maybe if we got it out of you, he wouldn't track you anymore, he won't have to do what he says too." She turned a page of the book. "And then we could do it for your parents. You can travel far away. Anywhere you'd like. You can afford it, anyway."

"Does the counter-curse even exist?"

"I don't know. But if there is, it must be here in the Restricted Section. Have you fixed the cabinet yet?" She asked.

"I'm close."

"You-Know-Who will get suspicious if you don't get it fixed as soon as possible-"

"I said I'm working on it." He snapped, but soon cooled down and let it slide. She was bossy, which was natural, but she was helping him too. It's something he focused on more. Delaying the fixture of the vanishing cabinet will only trigger the curiosity and doubt of Voldemort, and so as much as Hermione doesn't want Hogwarts to be invaded, she let him still do it.

He remembered every single detail of the time he got his own Dark Mark. It was hard to forget, for it consumed his dreams every night. The pungent smell of death, cloaks and masks everywhere, the cackle from his Aunt Bellatrix that echoed, it repeated in his mind every time he closed his eyes. Thus the black circles around it, proof of lack of sleep. And then there was the pain. It never went away. It probably never will.

"It still burns until now."

She looked up from the book she read and looked at him. Of course, no wonder he looked always close to being ill. This curse Voldemort put on him, it was something he was not ready for. He was too young for this. Too young to be this lost, too young to feel extreme pain.

"Can I, uhm, that is if you don't mind, could I have, err, a look at, your Dark Mark, perhaps?" She asked hesitantly. Draco shot a look at him, his stoic eyes grey and cold like winter, the opposite of hers.

"You don't have to if you don't want to show me." She continued. "I know it's a little personal. I won't force you to do it-"

Before she could even finish her short monologue, he had already raised his sleeve to his elbow. His trust was surprising, especially with the likes of her. Maybe it didn't mean anything to him anymore, the blood prejudice. He was just stuck with it. Jet black, the tattoo had a snake slithering out of the skull as if it had returned from a long slumber, its hibernation, ready to find new prey, new blood. Mud blood. Like hers. She shook the fear off, it was nothing but a mark. A mark that a foul, evil monster gave as a symbol of his power, his pursuit for domination. And soon, one day, will be a symbol of his defeat.

"Does it still hurt like the first time?" She asked. The redness surrounding the black ink was still visible, another colour that tainted his ivory skin. Even more so, it was more enhanced, like a second layer of skin in his arm.

"Unfortunately, yes." He said almost painfully.

"Do you mind if I, uhm, touch it?"

"You're not afraid?" He questioned.

"Why would I be? It's just a mark." She carefully moved her hands to his arm, and then grazed her finger through the patterns. It was warm, like it was just recently painted. Draco flinched.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"

"No, I-" He struggled for the words to speak. "Keep going."

She traced every detail of it, like it was a piece of art on a canvas, and the texture was something she needed to feel for herself. Her ministrations soothed him; there was a new feeling other than the pain. Comfort, desire, safety, desire. Desire.

"Such a shame, your skin is so white, and to be wasted by a mark such as this."

"Don't stop. It makes the pain ebb away, slightly."

"Really?" She asked. "How peculiar."

Hermione then used two of her hands to touch and feel his mark, scraped it with her ivory nails, a useless attempt to take it off, impossible it may be. Draco wouldn't let her stop even if she wanted to; it was a better, more powerful sensation than the scorching heat of the mark. He didn't want that back.

"This doesn't define you, you know." She said as she looked back at him again.

"I know."

"Just as our bloods do not define us."

"I know, I've known that for quite some time." It was his turn to look at her. They kept their gazes at each other, as she continued to rub his tattooed hand downwards, into his calloused hand. He took her hands with his other free hand, and by the next millisecond, his lips took on hers.

At first it was soft, the doubts of how events turned out running through his mind. How did it turn out to be like this again? He gave her one, two, three chaste kisses. She was shocked, but she did not pull back. Why isn't she pulling back? She kissed him back in the third kiss. A million questions would have been asked by that moment, but it was all thrown into oblivion when he held her by the waist and she hugged his neck as they kissed fervently, fourth time's the charm.

She tasted like peppermint and smelled like jasmine. He felt the skin on her hip, as her top had a mind of its own, riding up. He tasted like menthol and he smelled like musk. She ran her fingers through his hair, scraping his scalp. As the kiss ended, Draco touched Hermione's face and tried to remember every single element of the moment. The way the candle lit her face and freckles, her lips even more desirable from post-kissing, and her eyes dilated with want. And her meek smile, with creases at the side of her lips, illuminated the room better than a thousand rays of light.

It was something that could occupy his dreams from now on.

~.~

Two guards. His gates were opened. He glared and thought, _am I free_?

"You got a visitor, Malfoy. Get a move on."

His chest hurt, his heart beat increased by every step that he took towards the visiting room. Is he going to be free? He was brought in, and it was his lover's mop-head hero of a friend. Scar Boy.

"Missed me, Potter?" Draco said maliciously.

He sighed. "I thought a year in Azkaban would've rubbed on you, made you a little tolerable. I was wrong."

"If you wanted me to have better manners, you wouldn't have sent me into this hell hole. This is the least place you could get a personality check."

Harry sighed again. "How are you?"

"Concerned now, are you?" Draco chuckled. "I knew you always had a thing for me. Well, as you can see, I am doing well. Dandy even."

"Good."

"That was sarcasm, idiot. Too much time with Weasleys made your IQ lower."

"I don't even know why I'm in here." Harry pushed up his glasses higher to the bridge of his nose. A sign of discomfort. But then again, when was he ever comfortable near him?

"Oh please, we both know there's more to the little chitchat."

He sighed. "The Ministry has decided to reopen your case. I know it took a long time—"

"Oh please, a year and a half is not that long, Potter."

"—But now it's fully reconsidered. You're lucky someone actually wanted you out, found something good in you."

"I don't know, Potter. I think I kind of like it here. And that was a very good compliment, precious even, coming from you."

"Don't get too comfortable."

"I bet it was her idea, wasn't it? After everything we've done, after everything _I've_ done, she finds a way for me to get out. Do I look that thick? Typically soft of her."

"The nerve of you, Malfoy! You don't even deserve to get out of this place!" Harry calmed down, a futile attempt. "It wasn't her who did it. It was me and Ron, as much as our dismay."

Draco could almost snort fire out of his nose out of rage. "For someone everyone claims as smart, she can be really stupid. Merlin forbid, I hate her to my core."

Harry only looked at him with dubious eyes through his spectacles. "I bet you don't mean that."

~.~

It's a miracle You-Know-Who hasn't found out about Draco and Hermione's escapades, as Draco call it, and relationship, as Hermione call it. Some of their late nights at the restricted section were spent either fighting or sucking each other's faces. Thank Merlin they put silencing charms all the time or they would have been caught a long time ago. It was a serious matter, but sometimes they forget that they are still children.

"Face it, Granger. There is no counter-curse."

"All charms have something to erase them."

"Then perhaps you haven't heard of dark magic."

"Perhaps it's because those are illegal and should not be practiced."

"Since when did You-Know-Who follow the law?"

"Touché." She bit her bottom lip, a habit of hers he found endearing. "What if we use a series of charms altogether?"

"And what, use me as your experiment? No."

"We have to try-"

Draco cut him. "I already said no, end of discussion."

"But what if it works?"

"What if it doesn't?"

"Come on Draco, it will be fine."

"Easy for you to say, you're not the one with the ugly tattoo on your arm!"

"It could work Draco, and stop shouting!"

"I can bloody shout if I wanted to!"

Hermione groaned. "Ugh, thank Merlin for the silencing charms-"

"I can bloody say whatever I want and how loud it is!"

"Why are you so worked up one this? I'm trying to help you!"

"I didn't ask for your help! Why are you still doing it? Huh?" He barked at her. He was not accusing her, or ridiculing her. She could have been spent her nights in the comforts of her bed, chatting with her stupid friends, or even as lousy as it sounds but it is something she would do, reading those precious books for class the next morning. He just wanted to know why she'd waste time on someone like him. Someone unworthy. "Why?"

She moved away from her stack of books, and gradually took steps towards him one by one.

"Why?"

Her shoulders were slouched; her face showed neither anger nor pity.

"Why!"

She barely flinched at the rise of his voice. She still faced him, even if he's inches taller than her she stood like she was the better one. Which was right. But she didn't mean it that way.

"Why?"

Draco's voice became so soft that Hermione could have not heard it. She grazed her palm on his cheek, a smooth surface. She lowered his face to hers, and looked at him with full of meaning. Of assurance, and comfort, and something else. Something he didn't want to see, something he didn't hope was true, something he also hoped she didn't actually have.

Like her life depended on it, she kissed him with all she could, with all she could say, but she'd rather use her mouth in a different way. It was an effort Draco couldn't help but reconsider, moreover he couldn't resist. His hands trailed to her waist, hers to his chest, grabbing his shirt on her fist. Tongues lashed, breaths hitched, hearts beat fast. Her dainty fingers scratched downwards, tugged his shirt out of his pants, and stretched it across his abdomen. Her palms that slid underneath his garment were warm against his cold skin, his cold heart. Each button she fumbled on was like his fortress, slowly crumbling down to her. His safety guards that he had worked so hard to build for years were gone in an instant.

He asked him why, and instead of answering him with her eloquent words, she showed him. He did not want it any other way.

Her sweater was raised off of her head, his shirt long gone, her skirt was discarded, his belt unbuckled. The edge of her underwear felt soft and inviting, it lured him like a new discovery. Her soft kisses in his chest and shoulders sent good shivers on his spine like a cure. He returned them by kissing her in the hollow of her neck, her jaw, her collarbone. An addiction he could not recover from. Before he could move on to her precious parts he longed to excavate, he looked at her first. _Is this what you want? This is not what you deserve; I can never give you that_. And like an answered prayer, which he has never done, she guided him and showed him the way. Who more could be informed of her anatomy than herself? She was wet and warm and oh so pleasant, and she unzipped and pulled down his pants in return. Holding on to his manhood with pressure made his blood boil in a good, fascinating way, they slowly eased off each other's undergarments. Now bare and revealed, there was nothing left for the eye not to see. She was a beautifully sculpted, from the peaks of her taut breasts to the slope of her hips and legs. And that little bundle of nerves she had in the middle. He couldn't wait to get a hold of that.

"I hate you." He said. I hate you for making me do this, for making me want this, for making me need this.

"You don't mean that." She replied through dilated, resplendent eyes. The kiss sealed the deal.

He held her breasts in the palm of his hands; they were soft and were slightly above average. Just like his prized anatomy, if he might add. He kissed her downwards as he settled her on the table, ending his taste of her on her mounds, sucked and bit, earning him gasps. Her toffee-coloured hair like a crown as she lay, she looked exquisite and prepared. Her legs snuggled to his waist, the hardness feeling the wetness. And then he pushed himself inside of her. She made a sharp gasp, and he was almost done as her insides clasped his membrane and did not plan to let go. He thrust slowly in and out of her, and her gasps turned into moans of approval and encouragement. He made her complete, she made him feel safe. The thrusts became harder, faster, and elicited louder moans and groans and shouts of _oh yes_. The feeling was extreme and he didn't want it to stop, but it only got better and then he didn't want that to stop. Her high-pitched screams were different, like what he heard when You-Know-Who tortured someone, but she asked for more of the pain, or maybe the screams weren't from pain, it was from pleasure. Immense pleasure. He went deeper inside of her, of which she gladly accepted. He flicked her little nub, her temple of joy and ecstasy, and then she wailed and cried. Soon her own walls felt like crumbling around his wood, and she gasped and moaned as loud as she could, repeating his name over and over again, like a prayer. He grunted and thrusted and pushed and then finally a wave of relief and euphoria engulfed his entire being, lights twinkled and his vision impaired. He shouted her name like she was her last hope, and she was. Waves of pleasure surged through them, one a little lower than the next, and their hearts pounded out of their chest.

~.~

There was dead silence in the isolated room. Draco was once again in the visiting room. This time, it was his mother who visited him. They sat down without a pip for minutes, until finally his mother, being compassionate to her only son, initiated the conversation.

"How are you son?" Her tone was bland.

"Care to take a guess, mother?"

She paused. Of course, what else could he be doing but horrible? "I hope they're treating you adequately?"

"This is Azkaban. Treating you like shit is well, so I'll say yes." He barked, the sarcasm clear in his voice.

"Is this how you talk to your mother? After how long we haven't seen each other?"

"It's been only days, mother."

"It's been a month."

"I don't keep track of the time or date, mother. I'm not going to stay here for long anyway."

"I suppose a year is not that long."

"Has it been?" He scoffed. "I didn't even realize."

His mother looked at him perplexed and then pried her hands close to his that are closed in fists with a death grip. "Don't make me stupid, my dear. I can tell when you're lying." She sighed. "I know it's been quite a long time-"

"It's been a bloody year. A bloody, fucking shitty year."

"Language!"

"I can say whatever I want, it's not like they could prolong my agonizing stay here if I didn't watch my words!"

"Draco, calm down-"

"No! I will not calm down, mother! It's been a year!" Draco banged his hands on the wooden table that separated him from his mother. "More than a year! In fact, if I calculate it, it's been one year and ten fucking months!"

"Draco, please be calm. Take a breath and sit down." She said reassuringly, with her poise still intact despite the breakdowns of the ones she love, which has been happening a lot lately. "I don't want my visit to end so quickly. Please."

He was reluctant and angry and hopeless, and all those emotions dragged him to exhaustion every night. He sat down. "I _need_ her, mother."

"I know you do, but I need you. You're my son. I found out about the reopening of your case. That's why I came here, but you still act ill-tempered."

"Talk to your husband."

"He's been… indisposed lately."

He smirked. "Served him right, his karma is biting back at him. Lucky bastard, if he was sane, he'd be back here."

"Stop this, Draco! Stop pushing people away! What is wrong with you?"

"I am in jail! My family and reputation is fucked up! And the one person who was my chance for redemption abandoned me!"

"I'm here, sweet-"

"_No! I want her!_ Don't you understand?" Tears started to pool in his eyes, but he tried his very best not to cry. Cry because of her. "She was the only one who found the light in me, who gave me a chance to be someone better. It's killing me mother! By every day, every minute, every second!" His attempt not to show weakness failed, his tears flowed on his face. Narcissa remembered the last time he pleaded this way. He wanted a pet dog, and his father, her husband, did not want him to. Saying that Draco is too soft. But her son was never soft, he is edged all over. She wished she would've done something to change that. Draco heaved the most heart-wrenching sigh his mother has ever heard. And it was not enough to express the anguish he felt without _her_. "We're done here. I'll see you next time."

"But Draco-"

"I'm not feeling well. Good bye, mother."

He walked out without turning back. He won't be expecting any more visitors except maybe _her_.

~.~

"Do it, son. Do it. Think of how much you will please the Dark Lord if you do."

"But-"

"Lucius, our son is too young for this task."

"Nonsense, it's only a simple spell."

"It's an unforgivable!" Narcissa was mortified at what her husband has become.

"Just one cast of the spell, Draco. Just one, and he will surely die. The Dark Lord will be most pleased with you, and will rank our family higher. Do it for us, Draco." Lucius grasped Draco's shoulder with a death grip. It was more of a threat than an encouragement. "Now go back to Hogwarts, son. You have classes tomorrow."

"Yes, father." Draco murmured and then looked at his mother, her face filled with worry. "Goodbye, mother."

"Take care, my love." She hugged him before he entered back to Hogwarts through the vanishing cabinet.

He walked quietly through the halls of the library, towards the restricted section. When he arrived, he saw Hermione reading a book. She probably felt someone come in so she cast her eyes upwards, and she beamed at the sight of him. "I thought you wouldn't come tonight. I got worried." She saw the uneasiness in his aura. "Are you all right?"

"Fine." He replied, stoic.

Her brows furrowed, something was wrong. "No, you're not. What happened?" She said as she pressed her palms on his cool cheek.

"We had a meeting. The Death Eaters."

"Oh." Hermione's face fell. "And?"

It was pointless to hide things from her, for one she was helping him out of it. Two, she can tell if he's lying or hiding something from her. And three, he trusts her, even with his life. Just as she with him. How stupid for them to think so. "He gave me another task to fulfil." She looked at him sternly, as he continued. "To kill Dumbledore."

Hermione gasped and dropped her hands from his face, and an agonizing silence fell upon them. "Will you do it?"

"No! No, I-" Draco held her face with both of his hands. "I don't know."

"Voldemort might hurt you and your family if you don't."

"My own father is pushing me to do it like it's a silly little errand. The bastard." He chuckled. "Who cares, I've got nothing to lose."

"That's not true." She looked up to his eyes. "How long?"

Draco's eyebrow furrowed, his eyes narrowed. How come those two simple words hurt him so much? Because he knew, and maybe she did too at some extent, that they did not have much time. "The seventeenth."

Hermione looked even more sullen. Draco lowered his forehead to hers, their noses nuzzling. "I'm sorry I failed you."

"On the contrary, Granger, you never failed me." He put his hand on the back of her neck, the other on her hip. "You were the only right in all this bullshit."

Tears started to pool from her eyes, glistening with joy with such words but also with pain with the beginning, the beginning of the end. Time is so cruel. "Then let's make the most of our time."

~.~

"I-I'm sorry, Professor. But I have to do this. I have to kill you, or he's going to kill me." _And my family. And her. But that last bit was already doomed to happen from the beginning anyway._

"I think I do understand, Draco." Dumbledore said quite calmly. "In these times of war, a lot of sacrifices are to be made. Even in your part, I'm sure you will realize that sooner than you think. I hope you accept that as early as possible."

Draco's brows furrowed, confused with the old man's cryptic words meant. "I've got nothing to lose."

"Not as of the moment, maybe. But once you are in that time, you will know. And you need to do what is right contrary to what you feel is right. Perhaps it is time." The old man kept going, and then he looked at Draco as if he waited for him to do the deed.

Potter came right up, along with her. She just had to be there, didn't she? She was easy prey. The people he was going to let in wanted her dead. And yet she came too. She could be very brave, or completely stupid at times.

"You're too late, Potter. I already killed your precious Dumbledore." He snarled and didn't even dare to look at her. Oh how he wished he could have looked at her then, he might have glared and shook some sense out of her.

"Is this the one you're trying to defend, Hermione? This- this _monster_?" Harry turned to her and then back at him. "He took care of us here at Hogwarts, Malfoy! How cold can you be? I knew it, I knew you were a death eater—"

Suddenly, they heard a cackle, most likely from his Aunt Bellatrix. Not really the best of sounds you'd like to hear. It only added to the chill of terror Draco felt. It was time. Harry ran out of the Astronomy Tower, leaving him and Hermione alone. That was when he finally looked at her, and then anger shot out of him like a lightning bolt as he walked closer to her. "What in Merlin's name are you doing here? How could you be so stupid?"

"I- I had to make sure you were all right! And don't call me stupid!" Hermione shouted at him.

"Have you forgotten that you're a Muggleborn and Potty's friend? You're a target! Get out of here _now_!"

"No! I don't want to!"

"Oh so you want to die a hero's death, is that it? Very noble of you, but I am not letting you do it!"

"I am not leaving here! Not without you!"

"Oh Dracoooo."

They both turned around to the source of the sound. She instinctively puts his right arm around her neck, pointing his wand on her chin. _What are you doing?_ An even messier mop of hair appears, and her insidious glare was matched with her evil laughter.

"Ah, my dear nephew. I see you have found a lost birdie along the way."

"I- " Draco stuttered. He didn't know what to say. "She was spying, Aunt Bella. I had to make her pay for it."

"Oh! Oh! I'd _love_ to see this! Tell me Draco, what do you plan on doing with the little mudblood?" Bellatrix looked really excited.

He began to break a sweat, and it was him who was shaken to the core. Not her. "A- A- Sectusempra. Potter casted one on me. I figured it's time he paid for messing with me."

She cackled. "Potter casted it on you? My my Draco, I have clearly overestimated you!" and like lightning she took Hermione away from Draco's grasp. That was when Hermione finally broke down. Draco was dumbstruck. "I say we give this _filth_ an Unforgivable, what do you say nephew?"

His heart fell. "I suppose the Cruciatus Curse is rather redeeming on my part."

"Crucia- Oh Draco! I'm sure there are far better curses you could think of?" Her voice echoed across the tower. No. she did not just suggest what he thinks she did. He can't. His mouth fell agape. "Ah! I think you know what I meant! Here boy-" Bellatrix said as she let go of Hermione and positions herself far away for a better view.

A storm comes. Lightning crashes.

"Come on Draco, do it _now_!"

"Do it, Draco." Hermione howled. Pain started to build on Draco's chest, slowly stealing his breath. So this is how they'd make the most of their time, or rather end it.

"Don't you understand? I don't want to hurt you." Tears started to well on both their eyes. "Why do you make me? Don't make me. If only you weren't just too stupid to come up here!"

"It's time." She replied softly.

"Do it Draco!" Bellatrix shouted. "Do it!"

Draco whimpered.

"It's all right." Hermione muttered.

"Come on Draco!"

"I'm sorry." He whispered.

"Do it! Do it! Do it!"

"I love you." She mouthed.

"_NOW!"_

~.~

"Looks like you might not see me that much anymore, mate. You'll miss me?" Draco teased the guard that led him out of Azkaban straight to the Ministry of Magic court room.

The tall, lean man only chuckled. "I bet you'll miss us more than we do you."

"We're joking right? We're ridiculing ourselves?"

"I thought you were smart, Malfoy." The guard smirked on him. "Here's your stop. I'll be seeing you sooner than you think."

"Try not to write me a letter all the time, mother." Draco replied.

Dark grim walls circled the jury room, and every one inside looked at him. Some faces he recognized, some he didn't care about. But the one person he wanted to see the most was not there. He chuckled to himself. Life was ridiculous. They sat him at the middle of the room, on an old chair.

"Let's have this court into order. Today we reopen case #8632, the people of Wizarding World versus Draco Lucius Malfoy."

His head throbbed. Fear started to engulf her entire system.

"Defendant age 18, white male, single. No record of previous violations. Personal file, born in Wiltshire, England on June 5th 1980. Father is Lucius Malfoy, Death Eater, with a record of arrest and violations, currently in house arrest due to mental disorder. Mother is Narcissa Malfoy, housewife, current owner of Malfoy Industries. Mister Malfoy was charged of several counts of casting the Unforgivable Curses, including the death of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore and Hermione Jean Granger. "

The man in the mauve velvet coat went on and on, telling about his life, his story, and then their story. His headache has gone worse; he muttered a curse under his breath as the man continued. But they had no idea, not one of them did. Only they knew, and she wasn't there. She was his life. And now that she's gone, there's definitely nothing left for him out there.

**END**


End file.
